12 days left.

Yeonjun anxiously taps his foot against the marble floor, looking up at the ceiling. When his call is declined for the sixth time, he sighs angrily, shoving his phone in his pocket.

Looking over at Kiera, he sighs again, more worried than angry now. Her condition's been worsening, day by day. Nothing has been able to help, and Yeonjun can't help but lose more hope as time goes by.

Kai hasn't contacted him again. He knows that Yeonjun will put his duty first. If only he didn't have to put his job over the girl he loved.

Loves.

He meant to think the girl he loves. She's not dead. Yet.

But of course, even when everyone else around him is radio silent, the text messages carry on. They are a constant reminder of what he's done, and a certain part of him doesn't want the messages to stop. It's like they are a connection to his past, one that he's not ready to let go of.

Yeonjun rests his head on the wall, closing his eyes and letting his thoughts drift. Unsurprisingly, the first thing he envisions is her smile. Her happiness was always infectious; there was no way to be angry or upset around her. 

She was his instant serotonin. 

The day before Christmas eve two years ago is a day he'll never forget. It was the happiest day of his life.

"Hurry up," Kiera whines, pulling on his sleeve. "We're going to be late."

Laughing, he captures her hand in his, pulling her against him and kissing her forehead lightly. Rubbing his nose against hers, he pokes her cheeks as she gets flustered.

"I would never let you be late," he whispers, smiling. She lets out a laugh before pulling his hand once more, dragging Yeonjun away from the sidewalk and to the tall building.

They made a race out of getting to the roof, trying to see who could make it to the elevator first, who could press the button first, who would be the first one out in the cold air.

Just as Kiera readies herself to run from the elevator as the doors open, Yeonjun grabs her waist, ticking her stomach. A laugh bursts from her as she yells, accusing him of cheating. Pulling her backward, Yeonjun runs away onto the roof.

A victorious whoop comes from Yeonjun, a smile growing wide as he watches Kiera sulk by the closed doors. Walking over to her, he leans down and pursues his lips, squinching his eyes closed.

"No," she says, pushing him away half-heartedly. "I don't kiss cheaters." Yeonjun opens one eye, suppressing a smile as he watches her pout. Grabbing her hand, Yeonjun drags the girl to the edge of the roof.

Holding her tightly, he steps onto the ledge, her in his arms. Still pouting, Kiera folds her arms over her chest, not saying a word. Yeonjun rolls his eyes and kisses the top of her head gently.

"If you keep pouting, you'll miss the show." There's silence. "I'll buy you ice cream if you stop being upset."

She immediately perks up, even though it's as cold as ice cream outside. Rubbing her arms to keep her warm, Yeonjun looks up in the dark sky. They should start any minute now.

As if activated by his thoughts, the fireworks start. Kiera flinches at first but becomes fascinated, invested in each burst of color and spark.

Yeonjun? He should be looking at the display. They only put it on once every year, 10 pm on Christmas Eve. But he'd be damned if he didn't spend every minute of the show staring at the girl in front of him.

He was mesmerized by her. The way she gasped in excitement had his heart squeezing so hard it hurt. Her small smile tore him in pieces inside. And all he could do was ask for more.

As the fireworks display ends, Kiera claps as hard as she can, whooping and cheering. Yeonjun joins in after a heartbeat, coming back into reality.

It was at this moment that he knew. She had stolen his heart, and he didn't even want it back.

The slow beep of the machine brought Yeonjun back from his memory, making him sigh. It's times like those that make him miss her more than ever. 

I love you, he thinks, smiling at her sadly. And I will love you for the rest of my life.

Walking to her side, he leans down and kisses her forehead, rubbing his nose against her cold one.

"I'll wait," he murmurs. "For as long as it takes."